Games of Cursed Chance
by imaginationstarie13
Summary: A serial killer in Bayport. Frank's sickness. Joe's lack of interest in the case, and attention pulled to something he calls "The Game." It all links back to a curse placed on the boys, but their friends know that there's no such thing... right?
1. Chapter 1

The Halloween piece I promised. There is some mystery infused to the plot, but it's mostly horror and suspense. It'll be about three to four parts long.  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

_The moment wasn't like the other ones. Then again, there was a possibility. It wasn't like those guilty, or were close to the guilty, didn't think that cursing at the two brothers was a bad thing._

_But this time, the curse was something completely different._

"_Why?" the teenage girl muttered, watching as the woman was taken away by the police._

"_I don't know what to say," Frank, the older brother, admitted. He hated the outcome of this case. Hated the fact that the murderer turned out to be a psychic, who happened to be the girl's mother._

"_Why couldn't you just lie? Say that it was that man? No one likes him-"_

"_That's because your mom started a rumor. He's actually a pretty decent guy," Joe, the younger Hardy, said. The blonde didn't regret the outcome as much as the brunette. The woman had murders people who were looking for a little bit of hope in their lives, seeing that light in her. And now they were all dead._

_Chet, Phil, Tony, Biff, Callie, and Iola all watched as the girl's face began to twist with fury._

"_You could have done something! She didn't mean to! All she was doing-"_

"_She was killing people, and then robbing their corpses. She knew what she was doing." Joe couldn't hide the bluntness in his voice. It came out almost naturally, as if waiting to be challenged._

_The girl turned, point an accusing finger at the blonde. "I hope that you suffer, and bring the rest of your stupid Bayport goes down with it!"_

"_Amethyst…" The name sounded odd on Frank's tongue. It was still hard to believe that the murderer had named her daughter after a gemstone, even if it did supposedly saved her from becoming drunk, which saved her life._

"_And you!" She turned her glare at the brunette. "I hope you die an early death! No, I call upon the Spirits of the Realm! Curse these two brothers and give them their fates!"_

_Their friends didn't know it, but the two teenagers in question felt some kind of sickness quickly passing through them. They couldn't see the small, black gem set in the girl's silver bracelet glow, either. All that they could remember of what happened afterwards was Tony asking, "What was that all about?"_

_------------_

The weekend had passed, the story of the murdering psychic slowing down and loosing interest. Chet in particular was trying to forget the image of Madame Diamond holding a knife with a… well, for a lack of better words, _insane_ look on her face.

_There's not many ways to describe that murderer,_ he thought to himself, trying to make sure that his homework didn't have pizza stains on them. _And why did she name her kid "Amethyst Diamond"?_

Grumbling, he followed Iola out the door to school, but not before he grabbed a box of crackers to add to his already big lunch.

"Chet, why did you get the crackers? We're going to use them for s'mores on Saturday, remember?" Iola said, sounding very annoyed.

"We have the whole week to get more." He got behind the wheel of his faithful car, as his sister got into the passenger seat.

"That's not the point. Besides, _you're_ the one who's gonna buy another box if you're gonna eat them."

"Fine…" He tossed the box into the backseat, hearing the cardboard hit the chair, and the rustling of plastic bags within the container.

The trip to school was uneventful, but the second the two had walk through the doorways, they could feel that something was not quite right.

Frank, who was leaning against the wall, waved, then motioned for Chet to join him near the window.

"The 'curse' didn't work, did it?" Chet said with a laugh. "At least, not this weekend. But with Halloween this Saturday…"

Frank smiled, and it only took his friend a second to feel something wrong in the air. It wasn't a smile that Frank Hardy would give when joking about something. The only other smile that could have been expected was one scoffing the idea of curses actually existing. But the smile that graced his features at the moment was one that held some kind of secret, and it didn't seem to be one of the ones that Chet was used to.

"Can't you feel it?" Frank said softly. "It's gonna change. It's all gonna change. There's something in the air…"

"Frank, what are you-" The bell signaling the beginning of first period interrupted Chet, words lost to the sounds from the hallway.

"Morton, get to class!"

Chet focused on the gym teacher, who was walking at a rather fast pace towards the doors leading to the parking lot. "Yessir!"

The action took three seconds, maybe less. But by the time that Chet had turned around, the taller brunette boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Probably ran off to class. I'll see him second period anyways."

----------

"What are you talking about?" Joe said, his eyes not leaving the book. "Frank's sick."

"But… but I just saw him this morning-"

"You couldn't have, unless you went over to our house."

"But… ohhhhh…" It felt as if a lightbulb had lighted itself in his head. Chet nodded, as if agreeing with the thought. "He's skipping, isn't he?"

"Chet, this is Frank we're talking about. The guy who wouldn't skip school last year to help out with the junior prank." Joe seemed bored by the conversation, maybe even looking for an escape through the text on the pages.

"He's a senior now."

"Does that really make much of a difference?"

Chet thought it over. It _didn't _make any sense. Frank was the brother who would stress on the importance of education. The only time he would miss school was for mysteries, and he always came back with an adequate excuse. But then why…?

"Are you sure he's sick?"

"Chet, I'm his brother. It's hard not to notice when the guy sleeping the room next door to mine is sneezing and coughing his lungs out."

Biff, who had just finished putting back his textbook, jumped in. "Wow, that sounds bad. What'd he get, anyways?"

The blonde shrugged. "Something really bad. He's going to the doctor's today. Probably gonna be out the whole week."

"That must be really bad if he's staying out the whole week."

"You should have seen him when he was younger. He got on and off sick a whole year. If he wasn't so freakin' smart and all back then, they probably would have held him back." There was something in Joe's voice that almost didn't make sense, something like sadness over the past. But why…?

"What'cha reading, anyways?" Biff asked.

"About an awesome game I found out about over the weekend. You guys should come over and play it."

Joe's blue eyes seemed to glisten a different color, as if red lights had shone directly into the pupils. But it was gone with a second, making Chet wondered if he imagined it.

_Yeah, like I imagined Frank?_

He thought of the curse for a moment, then quickly sent the idea out of his head. There were no such things as curses. Even if there were, the two brothers were not the type to easily lose to such forces. He was being silly, and that just made him feel stupid.

Still, he could not silence the voice in his head, asking, _Are you sure?_

-------------

There were three bodies altogether, scattered across Bayport. Each of them were, for a lack of better words from Chet, a mess. The three young men had suffered cuts and slashes everywhere. There were three notable features that tied the murders together. For one, each had the largest slash going across their stomach. The weapon was unique, close to unidentifiable.

The lack of blood that each men had almost seemed like another issue altogether.

"Someone probably took their blood to sell on the black market or something," Tony said the next day, rummaging his locker before class started.

"Don't you find it weird? I mean, why so many cuts if you want the blood? Wouldn't it be better just to make one?" Iola asked, clutching her books. She had been frightened by the murders, especially since one of them was near the dance studio that she was supposed to go to the night before, if an appointment hadn't come up.

"Maybe it's a vampire," Biff joked.

"Vampire?" Joe asked, coming up from another hallway.

"Yeah, you know, the murders that happened last night," Callie said. "What do you think about them?"

"Dunno. Can't work on the case-"

"What?!" There was a collective shout from the group of friends, all of the eyes trained on the blonde junior.

"Just can't." Joe offered no further explanation, leaving them to guess what had happened. Chet's mind instantly jumped to Fenton Hardy. Maybe the man thought that it was too dangerous this time, since three men were killed in a single night.

"Still reading that book?" Phil inquired, pointing to the same book that Joe had been reading the day before. Now that Chet looked at it, the book did seem off. The covers were made of what appeared to be old leather, and the pages were starting to yellow with age.

"Yeah. The game they talk about is pretty cool. I got Frank to play it with me over the weekend, and he thought it was interesting. I won, of course."

_There's that glint again. I can't be imagining it. But his eyes aren't bloodshot…_

"Dude, you got bags under your eyes," Chet said.

"Yeah. Not enough sleep, I guess." Joe laughed. "Well, see you next class."

As the blonde walked away, Phil frowned. "Why didn't he put up more of a fight about staying on the case?"

"Huh?" Iola asked.

"He acts like he was kicked off, but he doesn't give a damn."

"Frank's sick," Callie pointed out. "Real sick, too. I can't go see him, since the doctor is worried that it'll spread."

"But Joe's been talking to Frank," Tony said.

"Must be a sibling thing…"

"There's something weird about this 'game,'" Phil continued, the frown almost attached to his lips. "He read that book all day yesterday, and he barely talked about anything else."

"Maybe it's an awesome game," Biff said. "You're probably just lonely, since you best friend isn't here cuz he caught something really bad. Like TB."

"Tuberculosis takes a while to develop. And besides, the school would have contacted our parents by now, and get us all screened. Health measures." The senior shook his head. "There's something wrong with Joe. I just know it."

"Yeah, maybe it's the cuuuurrrrssseee," Tony tease. "Ooooohhhh, I'mmmm a ghooooosssstttt."

"Not funny." Phil turned away, and began to walk towards his class. "But I'm telling you, something's wrong. And I'm gonna find out what."

--------------

They never did find out about what Phil discovered. The rest of the day had classes and social activities had kept the friends separated. By the next day, Phil's corpse was lying in a ditch next to the highway on the outskirts of town.

He was the fifth body discovered that morning, as the death toll for the serial killer rose to twelve.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

The group sat a table silently at lunch, still attempting to digest the news for Phil's death. It didn't feel like the truth at all. The teenager could not have simply fallen to some mysterious killer like that. Shouldn't there be more to it?

Callie was the one to finally break the silence that loomed over their table. "Do you think Frank and Joe heard?"

Tony shrug. "I haven't seen either one of them today."

"Frank's probably still sick," Iola reasoned. "But maybe Joe… I dunno. Think he's skipping school to find the killer?"

"Would their dad even let him?" Chet countered. "Even though it is worse now that Phil…"

No one finished the thought, each poking and moving the lunch that had yet to be eaten. Even Chet could not think about eating.

"Hey, you guys."

_Speak of the devil,_ Chet thought. "Dude, where've you been?"

Joe frowned, taking a seat at the far end of the table. "Checking some things out."

"About Phil's death?"

Already, the book that the blonde had been carrying for the past two days was laid out on the table, opened to a page. "Huh? No, no. The game I was telling you about."

"Is that all you care about?" Callie said venomously. "You're friend just died-"

"I can't help it that he was killed!" The anger in his voice was impossible to be mistaken for anything else. "I… I couldn't do anything in the end…" He abruptly got up, closed his book, and left the table.

"Nice going, Cal," Biff said as soon as Joe disappeared from view. However, everyone was still looking at the spot where the blonde had walked towards, as if expecting him to reappear.

"All he talks about is the stupid game. You saw his face. Did you see any sadness?" Callie shot back.

The memory that had just formed ran through Chet's mind, trying to recall the emotions on his friend's face. Nothing registered as sadness, but that couldn't have been right. Joe did show sadness… didn't he?

"Please, just stop." Iola's soft voice somehow had the strength to carry itself across the table through the noisy cafeteria. "No fighting. Not now. Please."

Looking over at his sister, Chet could see the beginning of tears stinging the edge of her eyes. "Knock it off, you guys."

No one said anything afterwards, as if they were all lost in thought.

The particular image of Iola just sitting at the table, her head hanging low and the first tears falling, burned itself into their memories. When she left for dance practice later with her friends that night, Chet couldn't get the words out of his head.

They came back even louder in her quiet voice when she never came home. She was found at dawn, her corpse peacefully sitting against the dance studio.

-----------

"The police said there was something different about her corpse. Phil's, too." Chet couldn't bring himself to lift his gaze from the floor of his room. Callie, Tony, and Biff had scattered themselves within the room directly after school, concerned about him. Chet refused to go to school, refused to even _think_ about anything but his poor, dead sister.

"Seriously?" Tony said quietly, as if afraid that a normal volume of voice would break the whole room. He tore his gaze from his folded hands and directed it towards Chet.

"There've been over twenty bodies now. What makes them different?" Callie asked.

"Not so messy."

"Huh?"

"All the other bodies have cuts everywhere. But Phil and Iola only have a single cut on the wrist."

"It must be pretty deep," Tony said.

"That's the other thing. It isn't. But they're missing the same amount of blood." Chet looked up, a solemn expression plastered upon his face. "I think it has to do with the curse."

Biff threw up his hands, his first gesture since entering the room. "You can't be serious."

"Listen: I tried calling the Hardys' house over and over. I've been getting nothing. I saw Joe walking home, but he literally disappeared. And right before that, he just… he looked at the house… and…"

_The blonde was walking at a normal pace. But it looked odd… as if his strides were deliberately stepping on the shadows cast by trees and clouds. And he was pale. Horribly pale, almost drained of life._

_The cold, blue eyes turned towards his direction from where he watched. The window that seemed to block out the outside world suddenly felt useless. His blood seemed to run cold, and he just couldn't turn away. His gaze was set on the blonde boy whose eyes seemed to become colder, and yet burn through anything it looked at._

_And then Joe smirked, and Chet swore that he saw the eyes turn red for a second, even if they were such a distance apart._

No, they weren't just red, _the teenager in the house thought, watching the blonde walk away. A few minutes later, when his other friends were walking up the driveway to the door, the same thought was still sitting in his head._

They were blood red. Even at that moment, Chet was sure of this.

"I hate to agree…"

"Callie, not you too."

"Shut up, Hooper." Her downcast eyes shot up. "Don't you think this is all weird? Frank's sick, and it doesn't sound like a common cold."

"Didn't Joe say he got sick for a whole year?"

"He got immunization for it. And that was in first grade. I don't know what Joe said to you, but it isn't hard to still be accepted to second grade with a librarian for a mom."

"And what about Joe?" Tony asked.

Her stare was shifted. "He's been acting weird. It was like he's always preoccupied with that stupid game."

"And being obsessed about a game-"

"Would a game really matter if your friend dies? Or your girlfriend?"

Biff looked down, mumbling an answer no one could really hear.

"Let's go see Amethyst," Chet said, rising from his seat. "I want answers, even if they are bizarre as hell."

---------------

"If it did actually work, then it'll be a first."

Callie stuck her foot in the doorway before the girl could shut the door. "That's not answering our question."

Amethyst gave the group of friends of cold stare. "My mother couldn't even perform curses well. What makes you think that I'll believe you guys?"

"Because Frank is really, really sick," Callie said, before any of the boys could utter a single word. "And-"

"So big freakin' coincidence. Maybe if he wasn't the reason my mother is arrested on murder charges, I would give a damn."

"What about a game?" Tony interjected. "Joe's been obsessed about this thing he calls 'the game'-"

"Good for him. He can stop solving mysteries and _ruining people's lives-_"

Chet began to feel as annoyed as Amethyst, maybe even more. It had taken quite some time to track down her aunt's house, where she was now living unless the unlikely chance of her mother not getting prosecuted occurred. During that whole time, only two whole thoughts ran through his head; his dead sister and friend, and the curse. "Have you even heard about the serial killer?"

Amethyst blinked a few times, trying to process the question. "Yeah. Who hasn't?"

"Has it occurred to you that, because of Frank being sick and Joe being obsessed, that it'll take longer for this monster to be tracked down. And that means we're all in danger. Even you."

"And how does this involve the curse?" She crossed her arms, frowning.

"You cursed Bayport along with Joe, remember? And because Joe won't bother with the killer, Bayport will suffer."

"Good." She tried to shut the door again, but Callie had left her foot firmly in place.

"Amethyst-"

"Forget it, guys," Biff said, sighing. "If she says she doesn't have any powers, then she _doesn't._"

"Do you ever read? As in, look at the words in a book and interpret them?" Tony shot back. "It's a classic theme where people don't realize their power-"

"Earth to Prito. We are not in a friggin' book. We are humans, not characters in an imagination, being controlled by some mysterious hand!"

"Guys! Stopt it!"

But it was too late. Amethyst had managed to push Callie's foot away and close the door while the two teenagers were arguing.

Callie sighed. "Nice going, you two."

"We could try knocking again-"

"Too late," Chet said solemnly. "She'll just ignore us. Let's go." He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. Somehow, something inside of him _knew_ that this girl was the key. The key to Frank's sickness, to Joe's obsession with "the game," to the killer.

But the key refused to unlock the door.

-------------

_"Chet, please wake up."_

The sleeping figure tried to ignore the voice. It had already taken hours to fall asleep, with the memories of his sister still fresh.

_"Iola, it's not going to work-"_

"_Phil, we have to warn him! Joe… Joe can't…"_

"_I know."_ Phil's voice paused, as if the teenager was in thought. _"If only…"_

_I have to send this dream away. I have to._ Chet turned over, and looked to where he had heard the voices.

No one was there.

_"Chet, can you hear me?"_

"Iola?" The name was painful on his tongue. "Phil?

_"You can hear us! See, Phil-"_

"_No time, Iola."_

"_Right."_ The girl sounded determined and scared at the same time. _"Chet-"_

"This can't be real…" Chet mumbled, trying to hide his head in the pillow.

_"Chet, just listen. You have to stay away from Joe, okay?"_

"What…?"

_"It's the curse, Chet. Please, just stay away."_

"_Chet, you need to live"_

The last words struck some unknown fear in Chet's heart. "The curse… Did it make Joe a bad luck charm? Is hanging around him gonna kill me?"

But the voices were silent now. And all that was out of place was a book that was sticking out on the bookshelf, with a title that could not be read under the moonlight.

---------------

_"-and schools have been closed down due to these murders. The death toll is now fifty one. Police are telling people to stay inside at night in numbers…"_

Chet let the news wash over him as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He was unable to truly fall asleep after hearing Iola's and Phil's voices. As he sat down at the counter and grabbed a box of cereal, the news reporter's voice continued to go on.

_"In relating news, Madame Rachel Diamond has been found dead-"_

Chet almost choked on the mouthful of cereal he grabbed from the box.

_"-outside of her cell this morning. Police reported having a power failure, even with the back up generator, in the area where she was contained, which explains for a lack of video. However, the police guard watching her during that moment has also been found dead. While there are no confirmed reports, there are rumors that this has so far been the bloodiest of all the murders."_

"_There is also some speculation that she had been tortured by someone, thought the police have no comment on it."_

The phone rang. It took a moment for it to register in Chet's mind, and by the time he picked it up, it was a ring away from being taken by the answering machine. "Hello?"

_"It's Amethyst. I need those two friends of yours to find my mother's killer."_

* * *

Biff, Biff, Biff... *shakes head* How would you know if you're part of someone's imagination or not?


	3. Chapter 3

Quick special thanks to the anonymous review Terri for telling me about a grammer rule (blond vs. blonde). Never heard of it till now. And thanks to all of the other reviewers! *hugs everyone* We're almost done...

I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

"So, it could actually be part of the curse?" Callie asked Amethyst, her eyes narrow and sharp enough to kill.

"I looked through the book my mother-" Amethyst's voice hitched, and her head turned so that her stare was gazing at the hardwood floor in the room next door. "It was in the books. Sometimes, the way to rid a curse by one's self is through blood."

"So Joe's the killer," Tony said, not bothering to mask his mess of emotions that threatened to bring him to silent tears.

"Couldn't it be Frank?" Biff pointed out. "He might die from his sickness of whatever."

"It could be both," Chet said, his voice barely above a whisper. He still couldn't get over the idea that one of the brothers killed his sister. But _both?_

But the thought wouldn't silence itself. The idea that Phil and Iola were both staring into the eyes of people they thought they knew, people who fought for justice and righteousness…

Were those eyes cold with indifference? Or did the crimson color he had spotted the day before reflect enjoyment?

That was one of the few questions he didn't want answered.

"How can we reverse the curse?" Callie asked, using what little bravery she had left in her voice.

"I can do it if I can draw the circle around them in chalk."

"What kind of circle?" Chet asked, trying to remember what knowledge of such things when he had interest in magic a year or two ago.

Amethyst shook her head. "I don't know. I _can't_ know until I'm face to face with them."

"Then let's go find them-" Biff's sudden movement to the door was swiftly halted when Amethyst raised her voice.

"Not now. I tried this morning, but there's a force field over the house. That's why I came to you."

"Force field? What can _we_ do about a force field?" Tony asked.

"I could break the force field, but I need to make sure that nothing disturbs me. You guys would do anything for your friends, right?"

"I need to find out the truth," Chet said automatically. "Phil and Iola are dead, and I want answers."

"I'm coming, too," Callie said, this time with more bravery laced within her voice.

"And me," Tony added.

"I'm ready." Biff pulled out car keys from his back pocket.

"Hey, those are mine!"

"Calm down, Chet. You left it on the hood of your car."

"I did…? But I'm sure that I left it in my pocket…"

"Suuuuurrrrre." The jock tossed the keys with ease, which Chet scrambled to successfully catch.

"But I'm positive…"

-----------

They went to the front of the Hardy's house right before the sun had set, taking Chet's car. The four friends had protested for an earlier time, but Amethyst had stayed firm. The magic force field, she stated, can be broken when the sun "looses power." And if they wanted to avoid any fight, sunset would be best.

"Explain it again," Biff requested, sitting shotgun next to Chet, who had parked the car directly in front of the house.

The girl, who the statement was directed to, was showing an extreme amount of patience with the friends. Or, at least it seemed that way to Chet. "Sunset is referred to as 'half-night' because of the properties. You can break spells, and at the same time, curses can't take full effect. At night, spells can break and curses take full effect."

Chet couldn't help but be grateful for the statement. All of them had tried to physically push back against the invisible shield around the house, but with no such luck. Now they'll be able to break it, and at the same time…

"So the Hardys won't be able to…" Callie let the sentence trail off. The image surfaced in Chet's head anyways, seeing the blood running down his own corpse…

"I'm gonna start now. Remember; do not disturb me at all. And don't let anything else disturb me."

"Got it." The four friends stayed quiet as Amethyst drew a pentagram on the cover of a hard cover book that she brought. She put her hands together, closed her eyes, and started muttering something so softly that the others couldn't define the words.

After a minute, Chet's attention wandered back to the "dream" he had the previous night. Could he really call it a dream? It felt so real, but it couldn't have been possible… Iola and Phil were both dead. Gone for good.

Weren't they?

Without realizing it, Chet had picked up a book from the floor. The same book that he had found misplaced the night before. Had he grabbed it this morning? There was no memory of such event stored away, making the boy question himself. For the first time, he looked at the title.

_Vampires._

A crunching sound woke Chet from his trance. And from the growl of frustration that came from the back seat, Chet could tell that Amethyst had her concentration broken. Everyone then turned to the source, which happened to be under Biff's chair.

"The hell?" Biff leaned over, and picked up the offending item. "Crackers?"

Chet _knew_ that those were supposed to be in the back seat, where he had tossed it days ago. Now that he thought about it, they should have still been sitting in the backseat, but no one mentioned it today…

Amethyst looked out the window. "Well, the field is broken, so we should be able to enter despite the distraction."

"But I didn't see them before!" Biff continued to protest his innocence as the group left the safety of the car. Chet would have probably added truth to the claim, if Biff had not subjected him to disbelief from his friends earlier.

The house had some bad feeling attached to it as they entered through the front door, which they had found unlocked. Walking in with their eyes closed would have probably given each of them the same eerie feeling that they did with their eyes opened.

The first thing that came to Chet's mind was the amount of dust everywhere. Didn't their aunt do the cleaning for the family? And speaking of which, where were the parents and aunt in such a time of curses and destruction? Fenton hardy should have probably made contact with each of them by now, hinting about such stuff that should be done so not to be murdered.

_If he did, maybe Iola would still be alive,_ the teenage boy thought bitterly. Suddenly, his anger was directed towards the whole family. What happened? Why didn't they do anything to help prevent such tragedy? Or, at least, console with them afterwards?

The answer was in the living room. Silently, they were all pulled by some invisible string to the room, darkened by the closed curtains. Sniffing the air, Chet could smell something decaying, rotting the once bright room…

The room could have still possibly passed as "normal," if the figures that were sitting on the couch and armchair were not rotting corpses.

"Oh my God…" Callie backed out, a hand over her mouth. She looked suddenly pale and sick, her eyes wide enough to have while space around the pupils. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy… And Miss Hardy too… Oh no…"

Tony turned his head. "So this is the full extent of the curse, isn't it? Being able to kill the ones that you love so easily…"

Biff, on the other hand, kept a steady stare on the figures. "They aren't like Phil and Iola, are they? It looks like they had more than just a few scratches."

"Why?" Chet muttered. "Why would they do something like this?"

"I… I didn't mean…" Amethyst turned away, trying not to face a single one of them in the eye. "I thought that the murders and curse were separate… I didn't know…"

"Do you see what you've done?" Chet asked. "Phil's dead. My sister's dead. The three people in that room are dead _because of your stupid curse! And I have to blame my best friends for the deaths, because you just had to curse them!"_

"And they're only five of over fifty deaths," Tony added.

The girl facing the verbal abuse slumped against the wall, using it as a support as she slid to the ground. A trail of clear wall was made through the dust that had gathered. "I… I only meant to curse them… I didn't think…"

"Then think next time." Biff growled at her, before suddenly looking to the stairs. "Did you hear that?"

The group nodded in agreement. The thud could have easily filled the empty house if permitted.

"Let's go," Biff said, motioning to the stairs. He and Tony walked up first, followed by Amethyst, who was almost on the verge of tears. Callie and Chet ended the parade.

"Frank's door is open," Tony observed. "You think…'

The rest of the question remained unspoken. The group of teenagers slowly found their way to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Biff peered in first.

"Nothing moving," he reported. With a sudden burst of strength, he knocked the door back, as if trying to surprise any living creature in there.

There were none. But when Biff's eyes widened with some unspoken horror, Chet knew that his stomach would clench too. And it did when he followed the rest into the shadowy room.

Frank's corpse, the bloodiest of them all, laid in bed almost peacefully. If not for the amount of blood absorbed by the sheets, a serene look could have probably been pulled off.

The sight reminded Chet of when he first saw Frank after the curse was placed. He was pale, wasn't he? Did he know his fate? Or was it possible…?

"I'd rather not have let you guys see this."

Frank's voice broke whatever enchantment each of the teens had with the corpse. The sight of Frank, walking happily and unharmed towards the corpse, seemed to have stung with pain and anger.

"Why the hell-" Biff's fist went through thin air, as if the "alive" Frank was only an illusion.

_Not an illusion, _Chet thought. _It's just like Phil and Iola…_

"I'm not a real being anymore," Frank said, a smile playing upon his lips. "If only I were, then that punch would have really stung."

"A ghost," Amethyst said with a bit of confidence in her statement.

The ghost turned his gaze on the girl, the once chocolate brown eyes filled with a cold form of amusement. "You wanted me dead, right? Well, I'll be happy to inform you that I've been dead only a few hours after you cursed us."

"'Us,'" Callie repeated. "Where's Joe? Why didn't he-"

"Joe." The name sounded funny to Chet's ear, as if Frank had purposely made it that way. "The one who is still cursed. If only I could help more than be the first sacrifice…"

"What do you mean?" Tony demanded, obviously trying to remind himself that he cannot punch a ghost.

"Simply put, that curse made Joe a vampire." Frank looked down at his own corpse, his fingers slowly running over the blood-stained sheets. "And I just happened to be his first victim."

"Couldn't you fight him? He listens to you-" Biff's words were cut off by a simple stare.

"Oh, I could have told him to stop. But I saw… a counter over his head. Maybe it was part of the curse. Maybe not."

"A counter for what?" Callie asked.

"A counter for how many people he had to kill before he could die a peaceful death."

The silence, which in reality lasted for twenty seconds, seemed like hours. Chet tried to imagine what Frank had gone through, what he had _allowed_…

All for his younger brother.

When no one else dared to filled the emptiness, Frank continued. "The number was quite big. A billion, to be exact. A billion people had to die before the curse could have been lifted, and Joe could join me in death."

"I could have reversed it!" Amethyst shrieked. "I could have stopped what I started-"

"You couldn't. When I became a ghost, I went to your dear mother for help. She told me to move on and go to hell." Frank laughed at the memory, sending chills down Chet's spine. "So I raided her stuff. Quite easy when you're dead. And then I discovered your mother's true motive…"

He pointed to the bracelet that hung loosely on Amethyst's wrist. "The blood of her victims was used to create that. Drops of blood on a black gem set in silver, known to some as the Cursed Eye of Hell Blood. Curses made with it can never be reversed, only fixed by blood. The death sentence hanging over my head was fulfilled with Joe's help. And now he has to kill a billion people to fulfill his own."

"Then what about the game?" Callie asked.

"My own little twist to the whole thing. I couldn't let him go and kill a billion people at once, like he did with myself and our parents. All in the same area, all pointing to one survivor… no, too messy. So I created a game out of it. When certain people are caught, they must play it in order to live. Of course, no one has won yet."

"You're like the assholes you spent your life catching," Biff spat.

"Thank you, Biff." Frank's smile was full of amusement. "If only Phil and Iola said that…"

"They died because of your game," Chet said to the ghost, the first time that he actually spoke with it that day. "You _let them die-_"

"I did warn them. Tried to help, too. But they wouldn't let me. Once they knew the secret, they had to help Joe."

"They warned me. They came to me last night, told me to avoid Joe-"

"Because if you knew the secret, you probably would have given up your life too. But they can probably rest a little easier, knowing that all of you are so defiant. Of course, the deaths will now be bloodier…"

"Why did my mother die the way she did?" Amethyst asked, anger seething in her voice.

Frank kept his gaze steady on Chet. "She threatened to make the curse worse. Wanted to get a hold of you, therefore the bracelet, and force Joe to kill more. So we killed her first. Joe couldn't help but play with his food, but that's the way little brothers are…"

"And what about us?" Callie asked.

"You're in the game now, I'm afraid-"

"What?!" Biff seemed to have forgotten that Frank was a ghost, pummeling a fist through the air. "Amethyst did that spell so the curse-"

"She never completed it. The force field automatically goes down at sunset. Another one of my precautions. After our parents and aunt walked into Joe holding a bloody corpse of his own brother… well, let's say that it prevents so many deaths at once."

"You took my car keys," Chet realized aloud. "And moved the crackers. And put the book in the car."

Frank shrugged. "I was bored. Joe was trying to perfect his little game, so I decided to do some haunting. And Joe was right; it is fun."

"And now…" Frank clapped his hands together, and the room suddenly shifted, fading in and out of view like mist. When the setting finally fixed itself, Chet realized they were deep in the woods that resided near Bayport, miles and miles away from human life.

"Let the games begin."

* * *

So, whoever thought it was Joe, you're right! (It was kind of obvious, wasn't it?).

Now, all I can say is.... RUUUUUNNNNN!


	4. Chapter 4

Last part!  
I do not own the Hardy Boys.  
Enjoy!

* * *

"What?!" Biff exclaimed, looking at the figure that was once their friend. "You're gonna let Joe _kill_ us?!"

"Don't act stupid, Biff." Frank's eyes seemed glassy in what little light the setting sun had pierced through the woods. Chet watched as the brown color slowly turn crimson red, just like Joe's did. "You guys know the truth now. And, despite the fact that most of the population denies the way of our existence, there will always be someone who would believe you. And that means they'll hurt Joe. I'm not going to let that happen."

"Is it worth it?" Callie asked. "Is it worth having a billion people die to help Joe?"

"To me, yes." The brunette turned his head so that he was staring directly into the setting sun. "You have an hour from the moment the sun goes. I suggest you start using the time now."

"But-"

Tony placed his hand on Callie's shoulder, stopping her from finishing her sentence. "It's no use. Let's get going."

There was something in Tony's eyes that made Chet realized something; Tony had already thought of what was to happen. He thought and calculated, and already knew their chances of winning this game.

Amethyst nodded in agreement. "Let's start walking."

The blonde girl nodded her head. "Okay."

It was only when the group had walked through the woods a good distance before Biff asked, "Okay, what's the plan?"

"We have to kill Joe ourselves," Amethyst said softly. "We're too far-"

"How the hell are we supposed to manage that?" the jock demanded. "Isn't Joe a friggin' _vampire_ now?!"

"I don't want to hurt Joe," Chet added. "I mean, he did kill my sister, but he… he's my best friend…"

"I don't like the idea either," Tony said, keeping his head tilted at an angle downward. "But we're too far to get help. This part of the woods is almost untouched because of environmentalist groups."

"We can't let him run around and kill people." Callie watched the sun finish descending into the horizon. "Tomorrow's Halloween. Everyone's gonna stay out late and have a good time. How many of those people will end up being killed by Joe if we let him get away?"

Apparently, the thought hadn't occurred to the rest of them. Thinking about it, Chet felt a chill enter his spine and refuse to leave. Joe had to kill a billion people, right? And what easier way to get them than on a day where almost anyone and everyone go out? What would be the body count then?

"Can't your magic do something about this?" Biff asked Amethyst, who was thinking while the conversation continued after her statement. "You know, teleport us or something?"

"I can't teleport," she snapped. Chet realized that she had been staring at her bracelet the entire time, and her eyes went back to looking at it. "There might be a way, but I need some things first."

"Like what?" Chet asked.

"A stick that looks like a steak."

"Steak?" Now thinking about it, the teenager felt hungry. When was the last time he ate?

"Not food," Callie said disapprovingly to Chet, as if reading his mind. "Anything else?"

"A cord, maybe? Something so I can tie the bracelet to the steak."

As Biff and Tony tried to locate a steak before the hour was up, Callie had taken a necklace from her pocket and handed it to Amethyst.

"What are you planning to do with it?" Chet asked, watching the girl unclasp her bracelet.

"This stupid thing started it all, didn't it? It probably can end it all since it's the same energy." Holding out her hand, she received part of a broken branch that Biff managed to find. It probably wasn't ideal; while it was thick enough to withstand a lot of pressure, it was too long to hold properly in one hand.

_Ask for a hunting knife, and we get a sword._ With those words flying through his head, Chet's mind brought to life an image of chopping Joe's head off like in Medieval times.

Amethyst used the ribbon from the necklace to attach the bracelet. It looked odd, and it took a lot of self control to keep Chet from either bursting out with laughter or groan about their fates left up to a stick. Biff did the latter as the psychic's daughter pulled a piece of chalk out from her pocket and started writing something in a weird language.

"How the hell is that stupid stick supposed to save us?"

"You're the one who picked it," Amethyst grumbled back as she continued to write.

"A stick can't do-"

Callie, who had decided to sit the argument out, suddenly shoved Biff away from where he was trying to stare down Amethyst. Her sudden cry of pain made Chet realize that she was hurt.

_Good as dead._

The rest of the group huddled around the fallen figure, trying to understand what had happened. A branch stuck out from the girl's leg at two places, revealing that it had gone straight through. Blood was seeping between the wood and the flesh, steadily flowing on the leg and dripping to the ground.

"What the-"

"Go!" Callie clutched the wound with one hand, and shooed away her friends with the other. "It was probably Joe. You guys have to-"

"We're not leaving you!" Chet quickly protested.

"It's either leave me or get killed! And not only you guys, but all those people tomorrow! You have to-"

"We can trap Joe here," Tony said swiftly. "We'll get him here. We're not going to let him kill you."

Callie looked up, and under the dim moon (which had rose while the search for the stick had commenced), Chet could see the beginning of tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking down at the wound. "But will it work?"

"Of course it will!" Amethyst said. However, there was doubt in her voice, which tainted any possible good feeling Chet had for the plan.

"Well, well…" Joe's voice, laced with amusement, startled them all. "I leave you alone for an hour. Longer than I gave anyone else. And yet, you guys aren't that far from your starting point."

"Bastard!" Biff yelled, frantically looking to see if he could spot their once blond friend. "Show yourself!"

A laughing figure leaped down from a branch that was obscured from their view, his landing marked by the crunching of dead leaves. As he got up, Chet could see that the blue eyes he was so used to glowing a familiar crimson red. His wavy hair was wildly sitting upon his head, matching the rumbled and stained hands covered with a dark liquid that was still dripping off completed the look, along with the same liquid sliding down from his lips to his chin.

"How could you?" Chet asked, his gaze locked upon his sister's murderer. "She loved you, and you… you…"

"She let me, Chet. Believe me, I didn't like killing her one bit." The red eyes suddenly seemed sad, recalling the cursed memory. It lasted only for a second. "But she taught me something that night. And because of her, killing you five should be easy."

"You tortured my mother. I can't believe that you would be such a bastard." Amethyst's grip on the steak grew tighter, and her look alone could of probably wounded a man.

"Hey, she started it! She's the reason I'm doing this!"

"But you enjoy it," Tony pointed out, not lifting his gaze from the ground. "You're enjoying this, right?"

Joe paused, thinking over the words. "I guess you're right, Tony. Killing just has that flavor when you're a vampire, doesn't it? But it's not like you would know."

"That's it!" Biff, using whatever knowledge he had from his years as a football player, suddenly attempted to tackle Joe. But the vampire was fast, and sidestepped the second Biff started charging.

"Vampires are natural predators, Biff." The blond raised a hand, ready to strike the figure that was falling to the ground.

Joe didn't see Amethyst chanting, however. Suddenly, he was frozen in place, the only thing moving was his head. He looked and grinned at the girl, who shot back a glare.

"Suddenly you grow stronger. I wonder why… Oh well. It won't matter."

"Biff, Tony! Hold him down!" The stronger two of the group listened to Amethyst's commands, each holding down one of Joe's arms. "Chet, you have to kill him."

"What?! Me?!" Chet looked at the steak that had been thrown on the ground next to Callie, then at the vampire. "But- Why-"

"If I move from this stance, the spell will weaken. Biff and Tony are extra help. Callie's injured. You have to do it." Her hands, pressed together and appeared to be emitting their own glow, shook. "Come on!"

"O… Okay…" Hesitantly, he picked up the stick, careful not to touch the bracelet. Struggling to recall the sword lessons he had taken a while back, Chet positioned himself. All he needed to do was to run forward, pushing the sharper end of the stick into Joe's stomach.

"I… I'm sorry, Joe," Chet managed to whisper in a hoarse voice. It was only then did he realize that a tear or two tinged his eyes. "But this is for Iola."

After that one statment, Chet ran forward. Joe, the look of amusement still plastered on his face as it had been for the whole night, suddenly threw Biff and Tony off of him. With his free hands, the vampire pierced their stomachs, allowing their blood to run freely on his hands and arms. An abrupt cry from Amethyst came from behind the running figure, almost the same time Joe had pulled something from the back pocket of his jeans and threw it at her direction.

At that single instant, all that was left was Chet, Joe, and the steak with the bracelet attached, the black gem gleaming under the moonlight.

----------------

_Ten damn long years._ That was the first thought that ran through his head as he walked down the streets. He had left after that night, the sight of blood scarring itself upon his eyes. He didn't know what else to do, so he had left the place.

The shopping areas were full of people, everyone preparing for Halloween. Despite the string of murders years ago, the place grew in population. The sudden end of murders the faithful day before Halloween had left many in better spirits, even if the bitter aftertaste of a murderer who had gotten away still left in their mouths.

The bodies in the house had been taken away, given a proper burial. Frank's gravestone had read "A loving brother and caring detective" when he had checked it that morning. He had laughed. If only they knew what Frank did after he died…

They found the other bodies in the woods afterwards, from what he had heard. Five poor souls that were the end of the murderer's victims, too far away to get any sort of help. And there had only been one survivor that the world didn't know about.

Did the blame land on him? From all the talk he had heard, it became apparent that he was believed to be the last victim, body carted away and left alone, still decaying to this day. And once again, the town didn't know the truth.

_"Spared from Death"_ he read silently, sipping a cup of coffee. The old news article that he had printed from the library mentioned the last of the bodies found in the woods, along with the absence of missing people on Halloween. The stick they had found, a bracelet tied to it with a ribbon along with smeared chalk, had started up rumors about a vampire. The blood at the tip had also concluded that there wasn't something completely human about the stabbed victim…

Absentmindedly, he brought his fingers under his shirt and ran them over the scar he received that night. It had healed, but with great difficultly. He knew that the steak couldn't kill him that night a decade ago. He had already tried suicide, vampire style, multiple times that week. But Madame Diamond's words were true.

_"A cursed vampire like you will never die until the curse is removed with blood!"_

He watched as a group of teenagers entered the café, almost instantly disappointed when no staff member came to the register to greet them. Taking the opportunity, he got up and smiled at one of the girls.

"Hey, good looking," he started, watching as the girl looked into his blue eyes, instantly overcome with the feeling of infiltration. Lust was a beautiful thing that came with being a vampire, making his job easier.

"Why don't you and your friends come with me?" he continued. "I know a fun game we can all play tonight."

* * *

Moral of the story: If a blond guy (teenager, actually. Vampires don't usually age) comes up to you and asks if you want to play a game, RUN.

Thank you to my readers and reviewers! I hoped you all enjoyed this! Now, it's back to work on the other stories! And Happy Halloween!


End file.
